


Anniversary

by Desperatepebbles



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Minor Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Zack is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:35:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29747835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desperatepebbles/pseuds/Desperatepebbles
Summary: Zack helps Sephiroth and Cloud navigate through their first anniversary as a couple, because they're too clueless to do so themselves.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter One

Crouching on the training room floor, PHS in one hand and forehead in the other, Zack bites back a cackle. He had learned firsthand, secondhand, and thirdhand how good Sephiroth was at sex, but goddamn he was hopeless at all other aspects of love. 

SEPH (12:01)

_Anniversary celebrations are common practices among couples_

Ominous. Is that a question or a statement?

ZACK

_Uuh yea_

_Ur just realizin this??_

SEPH

_Would it be appropriate_

ZACK

_Is it ur abniversaery then yes definitely_

What anniversary would he even concern himself with? He never cared about Zack and Aerith’s … Wait. He smacks his forehead, then a lightbulb appears above his head and his eyes sparkle. 

_Waitwaitwait is this abt cloud_

_Shit dude i didnt kno it was ur anniversary_

SEPH

 _Yes_. 

ZACK 

_Hold it rihgt there im coming to help u_

SEPH

_I’m in my office_

Zack jumps from his crouch, buster sword in hand as he takes a discoordinated swig from his water bottle. He jogs (more like a light sprint) out of the training room. Who knew the time would pass by so fast? It feels like they were in Nibelheim just yesterday. Regardless, his excitement gets the best of him. Ideas already rush through his head: a restaurant (classic), cooking dinner (intimate)... what’s something other than food? Shit, maybe he’s too hungry for a proper brainstorm. Not everyone does something huge anyways, they could probably just have some nice sex and call it a night. No, that isn’t good enough: both of those introverted idiots need to learn the art of proper romantic gestures. 

His foot taps erratically as he watches the floor number on the elevator change. 53… still 53… 54… Maybe he should have taken the stairs. Why the fuck is ShinRa so goddamn large? 

Leaping from the elevator, he all-but flies towards the General’s office, shouting a quick “hey!” to the secretary as he passes by. When he enters, Sephiroth sits in his usual position — leaning forward, elbows propped up on the desk, hands together. The ‘stressed-out evil villain pose’. “Heya, Seph,” he says. 

“Hello.” 

Unblinking, iridescent eyes meet sparkling ones. Zack takes a big gulp of air. “Alright, spill. What are you thinking? Do ya need help? I mean, I’m guessing so or you wouldn’t have asked-” a pointed blink from Sephiroth stops him in his tracks. He gives a closed-eyed smile and scratches the back of his head. “Ahaha… ” 

Sephiroth stares. “ So what _are_ you thinking?” 

Another, slow blink, accompanied by a sigh. “That is the problem, I haven’t thought of anything.” 

Oh boy. Zack already knew the situation was dire - with Sephiroth being Sephiroth, he wouldn’t dare ask for advice unless as a last resort - but gods, this was worse than he thought. He keeps a steady grin, though. “Let’s talk over lunch, then. Can’t eat on an empty stomach!” 

Zack goes to grab Sephiroth’s wrist and drag him to the cafeteria, but he twists his wrist out of the grip. “I am not having this conversation in the cafeteria.” 

“How are we gonna eat then? Can I order something?” He asks, already unlocking his phone. He still looks to Sephiroth for approval though, and he receives a slight nod in return. Sephiroth usually refuses to order food to his office, something about disrupting the workflow or inconvenience (which Zack thinks is bullshit, considering delivery apps were specifically created for convenience’s sake). “Sick! Thanks a ton, man. Whaddya want, there’s that new sushi place, and don’t say salad, because I know you should eat more food than that. You’re not a sad office worker— well okay you are, but you don’t have the weight gain to worry about. How about lasagna?” 

“I don’t care, just something edible.” By that, Zack knows he means nothing from those quote ‘suspicious dive bars’ unquote. He unclasps his hands from each other and resumes perusing paperwork. 

Zack situates himself in the usual position: boots on the desk, hands behind his head, lips in an easy grin. Sephiroth frowns as usual. “You still haven’t really told me what the problem is, you know.” 

Sephiroth’s eyes narrow a millimeter, something Zack has learned to pick up on. “I have,” he says. “I am struggling to figure something out. That is the problem.” 

“Okaaay,” Zack says, “But what do ya have so far? What exactly are you struggling with?” 

Silence. “... Everything.” He sets down a packet of papers and deftly picks up another. 

“You gotta have something, come on. Anything. Use your SOLDIER skills, persevere in the face of adversity and all that. Adapt, overcome.” Zack’s hands move from relaxed to wide gesturing. While he knew the general well enough to understand his lack of social and emotional skill, it was still weird to deal with. The little kid inside of him still had a hard time acknowledging that his childhood hero had faults and was a socially awkward mess. It was also invigorating, in a way. He was giving the _demon of Wutai_ relationship advice. Sephiroth’s incompetence was so rare, yet so potent. 

“Is it even appropriate? I almost burned down his hometown.” Sephiroth finally begins to explain his thought process. And oh yeah, he _had_ almost burned Nibelheim. Zack is caught between exasperation and satisfaction about his cluelessness. 

“Seph, that makes it, like, more special. Most people just get together after going out for coffee or causing property damage or something.” says the man that met his girlfriend by falling through her roof. “You saved the world _and_ got a hot boyfriend at the same time! That’s extra cause for celebration I think. Plus you didn’t burn anything, so that’s also something to celebrate. Self control, character development.”

Zack can imagine the gears turning in Sephiroth’s brain. He gives a slight nod as he continues to shift through documents. “Why should I celebrate my lapse in judgement?” 

“I guess corporate could call sex with a cadet a ‘lapse in judgement’.” Zack snickers. 

“Zack-”

“I know I know. But I feel like you’re choosing to focus on the bad, here. There’s so much good shit in there that you’re ignoring. I’ll say it again if you keep forgetting. You resisted mind control, saved the world from a demon-parasite-thing, got a boyfriend, and killed your evil not-dad.” During his little speech, Zack switches to a more upright position. He’s intent now. 

Sephiroth remains silent for a minute. Zach guesses that the gears are still trying to turn. “Is that… what Cloud would think?” He asks, a genuine question. 

“Aw, you sweetie,” Zack can’t help but croon. “If thinking about burning the town was all he cared about, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you. Probably. But that doesn’t matter, because you didn’t actually fireball his house. And he likes you a lot. Why don’t you ask him if you’re so worried? I couldn’t ever dare to hide something from my girl, and it always helps to get it off my chest.” Cue a complementary wistful smile at the mention of Aerith. 

Sephiroth’s silence and slightly-relaxed shoulders serve as his begrudging acceptance. 

“You see, fixed even before lunch got here. You can always count on old Zack,” He gleefully shoves a thumb at his chest. 

“Yes. Thank you, Zackary.” Sephiroth mutters. He swears he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips, one of the most wonderful sights in the world. 

< \- - - >

“So,” Zack starts as he strolls into the General’s office the next evening, elongating the ‘o’ to emphasize his nosiness. “what’s the verdict?” 

“It went well.” 

Zack gives a hearty grin. “See, I told you you were being stupid-” Sephiroth narrows his eyes at that “- but now onto the brainstorming. Did ya talk to Cloudy about that?”

“No.” 

Should have known. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if you’d listen to me better if I filled out a mission request form. ‘Mission: SS difficulty, highest soldier you can spare’...”

“You would never voluntarily fill out anything,” Sephiroth muses as he continues to pour over his work. “Your charm won’t work as well on paper, anyway.” 

The average person may be too thick or too stunned to react to the joke, but Zack was a Seph-Speech aficionado, so he laughs his ass off. It was either that, or blush at the hidden praise (like Cloud always did). He surrenders: “Aw, damn, you caught my bluff! … Bu-ut, you’re still dodging the question. You filthy little worm, tryna wriggle your way out of it, aren’t you?” 

A quiet sigh escapes his lips, although lacking the negative energy of the day before. A happy sigh, dare he say it. Regardless, he pointedly stares at his computer screen. “I answered your question.”

“You know what I fucking mean, man.” 

“You can’t expect that people will always know what you mean.” Sephiroth stares at his paper; Zack stares at Sephiroth. “Ah, but I am avoiding the topic.” 

“So…?” 

The next hour consists of Zack throwing out ideas and Sephiroth cutting down his suggestions with the same dispassionate grace he wields the Masamune with. How about dinner at a nice restaurant? (Too populated.) Could you make dinner yourself? He responded with a grunt. And when Zack asked what the hell that was supposed to mean, Sephiroth just told him to think of something else. Zack _tried_. He pulled so many goddamn things out of his brain—and his ass— but nothing satisfied the mighty General. 

And when the clock taunted him with 22:30, he threw his hands up in the air. “Alright man, I don’t know what the fuck you want me to do. You’re just saying no for the sake of it! I know Cloud ‘deserves the best’ or whatever-the-fuck, and I understand that, I agree with you. Listen, man, the guy has standards lower than the pits of hell. You could literally do anything, A N Y T H I NG, and he’d appreciate it.” He pauses his speech to gauge a reaction, and Sephiroth wears the same thinking expression that he has been for the last hour. It could be reassuring in different circumstances, but it is infuriating in the moment. “What is your deal!” 

Sephiroth thinks harder. “I don’t understand the purpose of it.”

His hands go limp at his sides, jaw slack. “You don’t think you could’ve led with that?” He almost laughs. What the fuck. He squeezes his eyes shut, thinking of a good explanation. _what would Aerith do, what would Aerith do, what would Aerith do_? “I, uh… I don’t know…?” 

_What would Aerith do?_

Goddamn, its like explaining sex to your kid. If he had a kid. Aerith said he was good at talking to kids, aside from the cussing. He was good at talking to Sephiroth too, he supposes. “I mean, I always get excited for special occasions because I can see my girl, y’know? It puts me in a good mood, I guess its like an excuse to express all that love I feel every day. Its an excuse for me to treat myself and the lady. I dunno,” he rubs his neck. 

He looks to see Sephiroth staring at him intently. That’s probably a good sign. 

“It’s like a birthday, or something. You have a reason to be nice to yourself for a day, and everyone else has an excuse too. You just… have a good time. Remember your birthday?” It’s a conversation they’ve had before; he remembers Sephiroth’s confusion when he asked what day his birthday was. The way he limply held the plate of cake. Hopefully he can connect the dots with then and now. 

_‘You could celebrate life everyday, but no one does that except raging narcissists and really religious people. Sometimes you just gotta sit back, relax, and congratulate yourself for making it so far. You have more of a right than anyone, you risk your life every fuckin’ day!_

Sephiroth leans back in his chair, blinking. “I remember.” He lets the message marinate for a bit.

“Look, uh, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’s not supposed to be a huge deal, just a reason to spend time with each other I guess. You theoretically got a million more anniversaries to do better at, if that’s what you're worried about. I guess I shoulda told you that from the get-go, since you’re not the most socially skilled person.” Sephiroth does not blink. Zack adds on a “sir” for good measure. 

Then he remembers something Aerith would say. He finishes, “Just do what feels right, you don’t have to force it.” 

He gives a slight nod. “Do what feels right…” he hums, mostly to himself. “ I understand.” 

“Good!” he chuckles. “I was afraid there for a second, you make me think too hard sometimes.” 

Ever since SOLDIER, especially since becoming 1st class, Zack realised that he’s had to think a lot about why he does the things he does. It’s nice, for once, to be satisfied with the answer. Sephiroth always challenges him in that way, as thoroughly and consistently as he challenges him with the Masamune. He can’t really tell which of them is the teacher and which is the pupil, but that’s what friendship is, he supposes. Different roles like ‘teacher’ and ‘student’ don’t exist, it’s just ‘friend’. The student is never the only one who learns anyways. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Sephiroth breaks Zack from his reverie, “I have paperwork to finish.” 

Zack laughs again. “Of course, you fuckin’ psycho. Good night then,” he says as he begins to leave. 

“Good night.” 

“Seph?” He pauses at the door and Sephiroth looks up from his papers. “Have fun, you deserve it.” 

He walks back to his room, a contented smile on his face and hands in his pockets. He ought to check on Cloud tomorrow. They’re due for a sparring session anyways. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Feedback is appreciated. After reading fics in the community for a while, I decided to post this little project. Writing this has helped me have a bit of fun and destress, so I hope it helps you too. The next chapter should be out soon, if you're interested. :) 
> 
> P.S. If anyone is confused about the timeline: Crisis Core mostly happens, but the canon diverges at Nibelheim. They defeat Jenova and Hojo and Sephiroth stays sane. Don't worry about the implications too much, I'm just focusing on cute domestic interactions between Zack, Sephiroth, and Cloud.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack continues poking around and asks Cloud how he's doing.

Slash. Whirl. Whoosh. Constant sounds of metal-on-metal or metal-on-air. Ding. Zack slices upwards to meet the other sword and they reverberate as they clash, a shockwave through his entire body. His immediate reaction is that of awe (SOLDIER strength will always be damn impressive); his second is that he should focus on his next attack instead of admiring the enemy; the third, and arguably the most appropriate, is that Cloud’s stance is off. Ah, right. He was supposed to be teaching. 

“Adjust your stance a bit,” he says, drawing his sword back and demonstrating with his feet. “It’ll make the vibration stuff from the swords less intense.” 

Cloud gives a curt nod and shuffles around. He looks up for approval. “This good?” 

It’s always hard to respond when Cloud asks him that. He’d always come to fighting stances naturally, he never really consciously decided where to put his feet and how to twist his wrists. It was fun, in a way. Both of them could learn together and grow together. “Yeah,” is all he says aloud. “Ready to go again?” 

“Yeah.” 

Both take in a deep breath before jumping headfirst into their dance. The next time their swords hit, he notices Cloud try to correct his footwork, but it is a bit too slow. Regardless, he breathlessly praises him. “Hell yeah, kiddo, you’re learning!” 

The determination in Cloud’s eyes reignites, like a fire after being thrown new wood. He jumps back, bending his knees slightly. Zack chases after, throwing out plenty of direct slashes as bait for Cloud to practice on. Observant as he is (and as much of a little shit that he is), Cloud experiments with one of these attacks and tries to kick Zack in the kneecaps. Spunky as ever. Zack stumbles, Cloud adds pressure with his sword, Zack pushes back. The small contest of strength ends as the SOLDIER 1st uses his superior ability. Cloud’s legs wobble cartoonishly. He attempts an escape with a twist of his torso, but is left unsteady and falls to the ground. 

“That kick was creative,” Zack starts as he twirls his training sword, “You saw an opening and you took it, but I dunno how much that’ll work against people in a real fight. You’re so tiny and a lotta dudes are way too huge for you to overpower.” He sheaths his sword and holds out his hand. 

Cloud takes it, standing up. “What about enhancements?” 

“I mean, you’ll be just as strong or stronger than a normal dude, but probably not another SOLDIER. And if it’s some Wutai ninja, they could just backflip away from you or something. You gotta think about your own stability too. If you’re gonna be more unstable than them without a good escape plan, you’re toast.” He makes a ‘poof’ with his hands. 

“Makes sense.” He nods, an intense look in his eyes. He learns from critiquing really well, but he tries too hard to assume a correct reaction to it. Zack can assume what the inner monologue is like: ‘I’m a failure; no, stop being so harsh on yourself. Zack is being helpful. Be Grateful. Gah, why can’t I just acknowledge it and move on?’ Poor kid. 

He puts a hand on Cloud’s unpauldroned shoulder. “Come on, Spikey! Let’s take a break.” 

They place their training swords to the side and Zack tosses Cloud a water bottle. He mutters a thanks as Zack chugs the entirety of his own bottle and flops onto the ground. Cloud sits beside him and stretches, bright eyes staring at the Zack-starfish. This is the time during their weekly sparring sessions when Zack wheedles. Despite knowing the inevitable, Cloud usually sits quietly and marinates in his own thoughts. He can’t tell if he’s still avoiding these conversations after all this time, or just bracing himself. Maybe he’s just gathering his thoughts.

“Okay, spill.” 

A weary sigh escapes. “About what?”

“Cloud,” he starts in a mix of a whine and a warning, “talk about whatever you wanna talk about. It’s my duty as your mentor and your friend to listen to you. … Okay, that came out wrong. I like talking to you! I wanna help you out if you haven’t figured it out by now.” 

“I know, you tell me all the time.” 

“Then act like it!” He mock-teases. 

Cloud smiles. “I would say I have to look after you too, but I guess I already know what you’d say.” 

“Damn right,” Zack beams. He sits up, criss-cross applesauce, and stretches his arms. “Alright, spill.”

“I’m just, I don’t really know what I’m doing. In general. With the General. Sephiroth.” The words tumble out of his mouth in staccato. Despite Cloud trying to cover it, Zack can see the red on his face. “Aah,” he sighs. 

Zack tries to stifle his laughter. “Why are you so nervous now?” 

“I’ve never made it this far?” He states it as a question, as if looking for confirmation that it’s a correct response. Adorable. 

“Don’t worry about it, Spikey. Seph hasn’t either, you can figure it out together~” he croons the last part. 

“I’m gonna mess up.”   
Zack ponders that for a second. What would Aerith say? “I’m mean, yeah, of course you’re gonna make mistakes. You’ve made plenty already and you’re still here. Embrace it! Like sword fighting, you make a helluva lot of mistakes but you learn from your mistakes and you always keep going. So do that. I mean, Seph’s not a sword but whatever— you get me.” Maybe not exactly like Aerith, but then again, he was not Aerith. 

Cloud makes a face. Not of disgust, moreso a face of disatisfaction. “Mad that I’m right?” Zack guesses. 

“Yeah,” he bemoans. 

“Ahaha, you gotta get used to it, buddy.” He sighs happily. 

A pause. 

“Seph asked me if I was mad at him for almost going crazy. It was kinda funny, I was worried about the same thing. I thought he wouldn’t wanna do anything for our anniversary because of all the stuff that happened.” Cloud blurts out. He goes to lean back, but leans forward again with an intent look in his eye, as if he means to continue speaking. He eventually decides on, “I still don’t know exactly what happened back there.” 

“Me and you both, Spikey,” agrees Zack in an unusually solemn tone. “But that’s kinda fun, too. It makes things more memorable when you don’t understand everything about ‘em. Like Seph. He’s so fun to talk to because I have no clue how his brain works! And like your hair! It’s a force of nature. How do you manage to look so much like a Chocobo—” 

“Zack.”

“— Y’know, I used to think you had to use product to get it to look like that, but I realized it would take you like 3 hours and soldiers don’t have that kind of time to waste on sick hair.” 

Cloud’s agitation is abandoned at that. Zack always was perfect at changing the topic of conversation, and Cloud was grateful to leave behind Nibelheim (Like Zack said, the unknown is more romantic and mysterious when it stays unknown). He decides to encourage the tangent. “How do you explain Roche, then?” 

“I swear that motherfucker wakes up at 4 AM just to maintain that shit,” he adds in intense insistence. 

Cloud snorts, emphatically grabbing a fistful of his hair. “Maybe, but not everyone’s hair is as stubborn as ours.” Zack ruffles his own hair in return; his wiry, unruly mass of black spikes. 

A few beats of silence follow, but before it can comfortably settle, Zack fills the space. He knew that he was always prone to babble, but never felt the need to adjust that habit. For him, comfort comes just as much from the white noise of meaningless conversation as from silence. Perhaps its even more comforting, since it keeps Cloud from retreating into his thoughts. He adlibs on and on as the two clean up the training room, as they walk through the empty Shinra halls. He talked about the etherealness of Sephiroth’s hair (seriously, how does it never get disheveled? How does he fight with bangs?), about the movie he watched the other night (they did not know how to use swords), about Cloud’s training (don’t worry, you’ll 1000% make SOLDIER). Cloud responds as usual: small laughs, genuine smiles, and exquisite commentary. Zack realises he didn’t pester Cloud about Sephiroth as much as he planned to, but it seemed like they were both okay. Maybe he should let them handle the rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the kind feedback, it brings me so much happiness that y'all enjoy my work.  
> And now for the grand fanale...! Brought to by Sephiroth himself! 
> 
> I took some liberties with his character, so get ready for sociallyawkward!Sephiroth.

Today is the day.

Fuck.

Sephiroth stares at himself in his bathroom mirror, but instead of practicing his trademark look of disdain as usual, he's checking his hair. Some part of his brain protests (it absolutely does not fit his character), but mostly he’s concerned if his hair looks alright. And of course it does, because he’s required to be in perfect condition while on duty. It was enjoyable, he had to admit: the spotless leather, silver unmarred by the gore of his enemies, electricity flowing through his veins. But that’s the problem. He does not want to be the General today, but the hair he sees is the General’s hair. His hands are gloved, his shoulders heavy with those metal pauldrons. He has trouble identifying his sense of self apart from his persona on a good day, and he wants to separate from his SOLDIER-hood right now. Cloud deserves that. It’s only a matter of time, he tells himself.

Zack would be laughing at him right now.

The thought brings more comfort than Sephiroth would like to admit, but it pushes him to stop his brooding. It’s only a matter of time, he will be able to take off this awful uniform soon. Taking a deep breath, he tears his eyes from his reflection and boots from the tile floor. Commence operation. Wait, no. That’s too militaristic. Damnit.

As Sephiroth rides down the elevator, he finds himself staring at his reflection in the glass. That is him, alright. He briefly considers asking Zack if his thoughts are reasonable, but decides against it. It feels like a moot point; Zack would tell him nothing about him is ‘reasonable’ or ‘normal’, and then he’d ask why Sephiroth suddenly started to care about that. He holds back a sigh; he sure is a mess this morning. Why can’t he harness his battlefield confidence when dealing with emotions? Sephiroth feels like it should carry over (Even if the obvious rebuttal is that emotions are the complete opposite of military affairs. And that no one bothered to teach him.).

A few SOLDIER seconds salute him and stare as they get into the elevator. Of course they’re wondering where he is going. I’m too famous for my own good. He decides to ignore them.

Another deep breath as he quiets his nerves. He reminds himself of Zack’s advice: he has ample opportunity to figure it out. He keeps this thought at the forefront of his mind as he steps off the elevator, making his way to the mess hall. Confident strides, relaxed yet commanding demeanor, blank expression, all to cover his racing heart. He feels disdain (his heart does not flutter. It is unbecoming of a SOLDIER). Then, he remembers his goal of kidnapping his boyfriend, and feels satisfaction in the silent protest against the standards thrust upon him. It’s his anniversary, he thinks in an almost smug way. Dare he say it, he deserves to be allowed to throw out societal norms for once.

When he strides into the mess hall, time comes to a standstill. All of the SOLDIERs stop in their tracks and halt their conversations. For a brief moment, a satisfied smirk tugs at his lips at the power he has over the whole room. Annoyance also makes its presence known—why can’t he stealth somewhere for once—but he ignores it all as he seeks his target.

Aha.

He mutters an “at ease,” to the room as he pursues that spiky blond hair. He notes with an inward grimace that the room continues to be painfully still, undoubtedly perplexed at what the esteemed General wants with the lowly mess hall.

“Sir!” Cloud salutes. Sephiroth does not miss the curious glint in his blue eyes, nor does he miss the terrified awe that others (perhaps Cloud’s friends?) stare at him with.

“At ease,” he all-but purrs in response. “SOLDIER Strife, I need you to come with me.” He can feel his heartbeat.

“Sir,” Cloud repeats, following close behind Sephiroth as he turns to leave. As they enter the hallway, he grumbles, “everyone’s gonna rip me to shreds when I get back.”

“I suppose I wasn’t very subtle. My apologies.” Maybe I should have practiced remorseful expressions in the mirror this morning, he thinks. Then Sephiroth remembers that he doesn't really make expressions, and besides, Zack and Cloud seem to know what he’s feeling anyways. He really is pathetic today.

Cloud’s eye roll warms his cold, dead heart before Sephiroth can ponder any further. “Subtlety never was your strong suit.” Then in a more quiet voice he adds: “It’s kinda nice, I guess. I don’t have to explain my absence if the mighty General has me.”

Sephiroth hms in agreement. Sometimes power was nice, especially when it meant that he could kidnap a certain SOLDIER 3rd without any repercussions. No one really wants to challenge someone who can decapitate you in the blink of an eye. It also helps that he has thousands of favors owed across the company. You can’t exactly say no to the man that does half of your paperwork and vanquished all of your enemies single handedly. He even allows photoshoots from time to time (that was the real issue he wanted reparations for). He briefly wonders how many owed favors he would have to cash in to keep his and Cloud’s relationship out of tabloids. Maybe he should keep a running list.

Organizing mission rosters. (Would that count as one big one, or each mission roster a small favor?)  
Disposing of Hojo.

He frowns. This is a pointless exercise right now. He should be focusing on other things, like Cloud. Or just Cloud. Speaking of, Sephiroth finds him to be looking aimlessly around as they ride through the elevator. That will not do.

When they reach his floor, Sephiroth makes haste towards his apartment, dragging Cloud along with a tangle of their fingers. The silence, usually comforting, stretches time and makes his thoughts race. Despite reminding himself to relax, he does not feel relaxed. Fuck. This is hard. He hadn’t really made a plan, only that he would whisk Cloud away to spend the day together. Zack has been telling him not to set unnecessary expectations upon himself, so he did not set any for today. After all, things seemed to have a way of working out when he did not have a plan (getting a boyfriend certainly was not on his agenda, but here they are). Another common theme of those scenarios, he remembers, is that he allowed himself to speak honestly. Subtlety never was his strong suit, anyways…

“I admit,” he starts when they are safely inside, “I do not know how to proceed.”

He spares a glance at Cloud and is greeted with a snort and a good-natured grimace. “And you think I have a better idea?”

They can’t particularly rely on past experience— neither have any, and the only time their schedules line up, they tend to take a shower and fuck. Hmm… perhaps a bath instead? Something tells him that doesn’t cut it. Cloud must notice his confusion, because he speaks up a moment later: “why don’t we just… do what we want?”

“What do you want, then?”

“I dunno. Go back to sleep..? We have all day.”

Sephiroth spares another glance. Those electric blue eyes, full of uncertainty, meet his own.

They let out a shared breath.

(He didn’t realise he had stopped breathing.)

Cloud bursts out into laughter, and Sephiroth finds a chuckle bubbling out of his own throat. “We’re hopeless,” Cloud says between giggles. “We’re fucking hopeless.”

< \- - - >

Later that evening, they lie entangled in bed, uniform splayed out on the floor, blissfully drowsy and full with a clumsily made pasta (courtesy of Sephiroth and Cloud’s combined knowledge on cooking). Some sort of nature documentary buzzes on in the background as Sephiroth reads and Cloud absentmindedly plays with his hair. The fluorescent amber of sunset filters through the curtains. He relishes in the feeling of gentle fingers threading through his hair, the warmth of a body next to him, the inner peace he feels after ignoring phone calls for a day. Truly a special occasion. He doesn’t quite know if this is what anniversaries are supposed to be like, but he finds that he doesn’t exactly care anymore They never did things normally anyways.

“Happy anniversary,” Cloud mumbles, more as a breath than as an address. Absentminded, cute.

Sephiroth sets down his book and leans his head back to see Cloud’s face. “Happy anniversary,” he replies. A declaration. As a response, he is greeted with a soft yet radiant smile.

Perhaps they weren’t as hopeless as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tagging along for the ride. I might add some more short stories to this AU because I had a lot of fun writing these iterations of Zack, Cloud, and Sephiroth. I may or may not have ideas for another fic too... we'll see where it goes. 
> 
> Bye for now!


End file.
